Raymond Reddington and The Seven Deadly Sins
by SensationalShay
Summary: Even Raymond Reddington isn't above sinning.


A/N: This is an idea I got after watching a Discovery Channel special about the seven deadly sins at 3 o'clock in the morning LOL

This is one story with seven different…tales I guess you could call them.

All mistakes are no longer mine and mine alone! Xyber116 has very kindly offered her services to be my BETA and I have graciously accepted! She HAS been and IS just wonderful!

Because I now have a BETA, I have asked her to give a once over on all my past stories and she has agreed. Once that is done I will be re-uploading them with the new versions. Not deleting them, just changing out the content. It most likely will not be till the end of the week or maybe even next weekend but I will you know when I do it :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Wish I did but I don't.

* * *

Lust: An intense desire, physical or otherwise; A want or craving for money, food, fame or power.

_I wanna do bad things to you._

_- Jace Everett_

"If I haven't said it before now, you look lovely tonight Lizzie," Red said in his unmistakable deep voice.

Lizzie looked up from her dessert and saw the look of, what only could be described as lust, in Red's eyes.

"You've told me. Twice as matter of fact but thank you. Again," Lizzie said taking another bite of her Salted Caramel Crème Brulee.

Red had asked her to accompany him to dinner two days before. He had made reservations at Washington D.C's most exclusive and finest restaurant, Plume, inside the Jefferson Hotel. Forbes Magazine had named Plume as the only 5 star restaurant in all of Washington. Apparently, it was very hard to get reservations and Red had been thrilled when she agreed to go with him.

Lizzie had agonized over what she should wear all day. What did one wear to a 5 star restaurant? She finally decided on a dark blue, sequined dress that she had never worn before. It was sleeveless, low cut, and came to just above her knee. Seemingly very appropriate for a nice dinner out.

Now, however as Lizzie kept looking across the table to Red, she found herself wishing she had worn something not so….sexy. The look he had been giving her all night had begun to affect her.

In the months since her divorce from Tom, Red had made his intentions crystal clear; He wanted her. It was why she was keeping him at arm's length. He was a criminal and she was a FBI Agent. She should not be having these kinds of feelings for a man like Red.

But she just couldn't seem to help herself. Red was a very hard man not to fall for. He was classy, charming, good looking, rich, well educated, and had a wonderful sense of humor. He never failed to make her laugh.

They had been having these kind of "dates" for the past six months or so. Red would ask her out, he would wine and dine her and then at the end of the night, he would be the perfect gentleman. He would walk her to her door and leave her with a kiss on the forehead. He had been very respectful of her hesitations.

However, over the past month, Red has been stepping up his game and tonight he was pulling out all the stops.

Lizzie found out that not only did Plume have fantastic food but it was also very romantic. The decor screamed romance. The room had white walls, crystal chandeliers hanging overhead, gold accents and marble flooring. The table Red had reserved was a small two person table sitting directly in front of the massive fireplace, that had been blazing when they arrived.

The sounds of Beethoven, Brahms, Mozart, Bach and Debussy playing overhead only added to the ambiance of the restaurant.

Red had deliberately chosen this place. It was obvious that he was tired of letting her slowly come to the idea that they could be together and had decided to help things along.

And it was working. The bastard, Lizzie thought to herself as she took another bite of her dessert.

"Are you sure you don't want dessert Red? The crème brulee is amazing," Lizzie said, trying to make conversation.

"Oh, I'm quite sure Lizzie. I'm enjoying watching you have dessert though," Red said with a grin.

"I love sweets. Always have." Lizzie said. Was it hot in here, Lizzie thought as she felt warm all of a sudden.

"I know," Red said, taking a sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving hers.

Of course you know you ass, Lizzie thought. You know everything.

"Did you enjoy the food after all the trouble you went through to get a table in here on a Saturday night?" she asked.

"Yes I did. The braised rabbit was perfect. Did you like your striped bass?" Red asked, as he stared at her exposed neck.

Did he just look at my chest, Lizzie thought. It really was warm in here.

"Yes. Yes I did. I would order it again." she said.

Lizzie could feel her heart pounding. Her palms were sweaty, her mouth felt dry, and her legs felt like they were made out of Jell-O.

"So Lizzie, tell me what are your plans for tomorrow?" Red asked.

While she was slowly freaking out inside, he was the poster boy for cool, calm, and collected. By looking at him you wouldn't think any of this was getting to him. Maybe it's not, Lizzie thought. Maybe this is just me. Oh God I can't breathe.

"Oh, I don't know. Clean house, go grocery shopping, that sort of thing. Nothing really important," Lizzie replied.

"Good," Red said taking the last sip of his wine.

"Why," she asked.

"Well, I was thinking that if you did have plans you probably should just cancel them, seeing as you won't be getting much rest tonight," Red said as he directly looked into her eyes.

Lizzie almost dropped her spoon as what he said registered with her. Did he really just say that, she thought? She sat opened mouthed and staring at him.

"Wh..What?" Lizzie stuttered.

"I know I'm a bit older than you Lizzie but I still have a very healthy sexual appetite. We're going to be up for a long while yet," Red said very calmly. "I've booked us a room upstairs till Monday morning. I understand their breakfast is just as good as their dinner."

Oh God, Lizzie thought. She could feel her heart beat quicken, and her breathing coming in pants. She could feel a wonderful tightness in her breasts and a slow burning heat in the lower part of her abdomen that she hadn't felt in far too long.

Lizzie took a deep breath and licked her lips. Red's eyes darkened as he tracked her tongue run across her bottom lip.

"You should probably go ahead and get that check," Lizzie said in a deep voice.

Red looked up and signaled to their waiter, "Check please."

* * *

Gluttony: Excessive desire for food.

_And he, like many jaded people, had few pleasures left in life save good food and drink._

_- Honore de Balzac_

Martin Bosley's Yacht Club on the banks of New Zealand was known for having some of the most amazing and freshest seafood you could find anywhere.

It was also one of Raymond Reddington's favorite places to eat. He tried to come to New Zealand at least twice a month if he could just to eat at this place.

Red often wondered how much Ressler would pay to find out that little tidbit of information.

Ressler. Donald Ressler. FBI Special Agent Donald Ressler.

He was slowly becoming a pain in Red's side. Not that he and his band of misfits had even come close to finding the "FBI's Fourth Most Wanted Man". No, it became clear to Red months ago that he had nothing to worry about where Donald Ressler was concerned. It was just one more thing Raymond Reddington had to deal with. Like I don't have enough to think about already, Red thought to himself as he took another sip of his wine.

Donald Ressler had gotten it into his head over a year ago that he would be the one that caught Raymond Reddington and brought him to justice. Red couldn't help but chuckle over that.

"What's so funny?" Luli asked next to him.

Red smiled at one of his most trusted advisers and shook his head. Luli rolled her eyes and went back to eating her dinner. Dembe sat as quiet and watchful as ever across from him.

Red turned to look out the window. The view of New Zealand out of this very window never failed to relax Red. Beautiful green covered the mountains overlooking the dark blue of the water. Boats of all shapes and sizes pulled in and out of the docks as the clear blue sky above highlighted the land underneath it.

But as beautiful as the scenery was, it was this restaurant that brought him back. Not necessarily the restaurant itself although it was very nice.

Friendly but polished service, unpretentious but classy and upscale, a kitchen run by a chef who knew how to treat ingredients right and knew where they all came from. A winning combination as far as Red was concerned.

But no, as nice as the dining establishment and the view was, it was no doubt the food itself that brought Red back here.

The Auckland Oysters, the Waikanae Crab, the saffron infused snapper, and the scallops were all imported in from Hawkes Bay.

Incredible!

Although their seafood wasn't the only thing Red liked. Their tarragon grilled Lamb was a taste sensation! As was their whiskey soaked wild boar, poached Mallard Duck, barbequed pork tenderloin, chipotle roasted Water Buffalo, wattle seed seasoned ostrich fillets, turkey brunswick stew and even their creamy white wine sauce topped chicken. Something as simple and ordinary as chicken was incredibly tasty.

Luli had on many occasions called him a "foodie" and a "food and wine snob" and he may be.

When he was young, food was just something he used to fill his belly. But if the years of "being on the run" had taught him anything, it was to enjoy and experience life as well as the world around him. Try new things, including food and wine. Even if you didn't like it, that was ok. Don't order it again but at least you gave something a try and that's all that mattered.

You only have one go round at this thing called Life. Better make it count!

* * *

Greed: A pursuit of material possessions; Intense and selfish desire for something, especially for wealth, power or food.

_Greed is a disease._

_Money and power fuel this sickness_

_And people don't want to be helped._

_They want and want and want some more._

_- Unknown_

I want this, Red thought to himself.

Red and Dembe had traveled to Capri, Italy to meet with a man who was in need of his help. As always when they traveled, Dembe had a car waiting for them as they stepped off Red's personal jet. Red never, under any circumstances would accept rides with or from his clients.

As Dembe drove through the beautiful Italian countryside, mountains on one side and the ocean on the other, Red phoned his client to settle on a meeting place. His client had invited him to his home.

As Dembe pulled up to the iron gate that surrounded the property, security guards surrounded the car. Dembe gave them Red's name and after several seconds of checking the guest list, the guards allowed them to pass through.

Dembe slowly drove the car on the private driveway, making his way to the house. The roads were curved and quite narrow but the view was magnificent. Cobalt blue water for as far as the eye could see.

After conquering the road, Dembe finally pulled up to a massive white mansion that sat on a cliff overlooking the water and was by palm trees and various flower bushes.

Just as Dembe stepped out of the car to open Red's door, an older man began to walk out of the house.

"Raymond!" The man said in a heavy Italian accent. "I do hope your trip was comfortable?"

"Giuseppe!" Red said with a broad smile.

Red and Giuseppe walked toward each other and hugged one another tightly.

"Been far too long, old friend." Giuseppe said.

"Indeed." Red replied.

"Come. Let's go inside. I have lunch waiting." Giuseppe said.

The two men walked into the home with Dembe not far behind.

"Beautiful place you have here Giuseppe. How long have you been here?" Red asked looking around the perfectly decorated home.

"Oh about three years now. I got tired of moving around, so after much looking, I decided on this place."

Red stopped walking for a second causing Giuseppe to stop as well.

"You live here on a permanent basis?" Red asked frowning.

"Yes indeed."

"Aren't you concerned about being found? Being attacked?" Red asked.

Giuseppe smiled slightly and said, "Sometimes but you know Raymond, after a while a man needs a home. It's so nice to sleep in the same bed every night."

Red said nothing as he looked at his acquaintance.

"Plus, I spent a small fortune to insure my safety. My men are all over the place 24 hours a day and I have many exit routes and plans for any and all emergencies," Giuseppe said. "But like I said, it's been three years now and I haven't had an emergency yet so I call myself lucky! Come, we will have lunch out back. The view is magnificent!"

Red slowly walked behind the man and thought about how nice it would be to stay in one place for awhile. Have something like this. A home. For the past twenty years the longest he's stayed in one place had been four days.

He had the money, the power, and the resources to have something like this. Between him and Dembe they could set up a home that would make this place seem like a dump.

I want this, Red thought to himself.

This, all of this. The house, the furniture, the artwork. All the things he had acquired over his life. All stored in garages, storage units, and warehouses all over the world. He wanted to have it all on display in a home.

Red hadn't felt this greedy in years.

* * *

Sloth: Physical, emotional or spiritual laziness.

_Nothing irritates me more than chronic laziness in others. Mind you, it's only mental sloth I object to. Physical sloth can be heavenly._

_- Elizabeth Hurley_

"I am so relaxed," Red mumbled as he swayed back and forth on one of the porch rocking chairs. Dembe hummed in agreement from the chair next to him. Luli was currently a few feet from them practicing her yoga on the grassy yard.

Raymond Reddington was currently at the Natura Cabana Hotel and Spa in Cararete, Dominican Republic.

For the past month or so, things have been especially busy for the "Concierge of Crime". He and his two companions and best friends, Luli and Dembe, had been in the air more than they had been on the ground. They had been to Greece, Italy, Tibet, Thailand and Mexico City in just the last 10 days alone.

And it was two days ago that Luli had put her foot down. She was very unhappy and tired of the plane hopping. The longest sleep she had gotten was in the front seat of the car as Dembe drove the 2 hours from Sydney to Katoomba. Drifting in and out of sleep while sitting up in a plane chair did not count. She wanted to sleep in a bed. At night. She wanted to relax. She wanted, no needed, a message. And a facial. She wanted a day off.

And since Dembe never said a word during Luli's rant, Red assumed he felt the same way.

So here they were. At this relaxing beachside eco-retreat Luli had found when he said yes to her idea (or rather demanded) of a vacation. A place that would connect you and your senses to the environment, the booklet said. A resort that only had ten bungalows that were built with locally sourced materials such as mahogany and bamboo, and sat nestled among lush vegetation. Rocking chairs, hammocks, and rustic loungers sat on every porch of each bungalow. And the part Red liked, each of the bungalows were a good two miles from each other. No people to be seen anywhere.

Sitting on the porch, watching and listening to the rolling waves of the ocean, the slight heat from the sun coming down on his face, the breeze blowing through the palm trees that surrounded him, Red couldn't remember feeling so relaxed.

There was something to be said for being lazy.

Wrath: Extreme rage; displaying fierce anger to another person.

* * *

_Of the seven deadly sins, anger is possibly the most fun. To lick your wounds, to smack your lips over grievances long past, to roll over your tongue the prospect of bitter confrontations still to come, to savor to the last toothsome morsel both the pain you are given and the pain you are giving back - in many ways it is a feast fit for a king._

_- Fredrick Buechner_

Finally, Red thought. After twenty two years, it's finally going to happened.

As Red stood over the man who was responsible for every bad thing that has happened in his life, hatred filled his body.

Who knew that when he asked Lizzie to join him in Berlin to catch another name on his list, that something like this would happen. On this cold, raining night in an old abandoned warehouse, Raymond Reddington would finally get his revenge.

The building was now quiet. Just the echo of rain filled the space. People, who once worked for this man, were all dead now. Bodies laid every which way from the gun shots that rang out moments ago. Red could feel Dembe and Lizzie's presence behind him but still no one said a thing.

His old enemy, having been shot in his right kneecap tried to crawl away on his arms but knew it was no use. He knew the man standing over him. Had known him for years. Been running from and at the same time, chasing him for the past two decades.

"Raymond," the man said with a slight pleading in his voice.

Lizzie took a step forward, her gun in her hands but lowered.

"Red," she whispered. "Who is this guy?"

"This is the man who took away everything I had. Everything I worked so hard for. The one responsible for turning me into the man I am today," Red said, never blinking. He never took his eyes off the man on the cold, hard concrete floor.

The man continued crawling backwards until he hit one of the walls of the warehouse. Red stopped in front of him, staring down.

"This is the man who forever ruined Christmas for me," Red said, as the images replayed in his mind of that cold Christmas Eve night. "This is the man who slaughtered my family."

Lizzie looked at Red, mouth and eyes wide open. My God she thought.

She knew she needed to try and reason with him but knowing deep down it was no use. This man, the man who had entered her life all those months ago, the man who became her friend, who had saved her life more times than she could count, was going to kill again on this night.

"If you are going to kill me Raymond, do it. Get it over with," the man said from the ground. "Put a bullet in me and be done with it. You won."

Red grinned as he looked down. "I'm not going to put a bullet in you. That would be much too easy."

Red had thought many times over the years, that when he caught up to this man, just how he would take this man's life. A single bullet in-between the eyes? A dozen stab wounds to vital areas of the body? Weeks of inhuman torture till his own body couldn't take it anymore and die on its own maybe? Strap him to a chair and light him ablaze?

Red had learned a number of ways to kill a man over the years. Some fast, some slow. But after twenty two years, Red knew there could only be one way to kill this man.

Red peeled off his black winter gloves and slipped them into his coat pocket before bending down to meet his enemy eye to eye.

As Red stared into his eyes, the images of his wife and daughter filled his mind. These were the eyes that they saw right before this man killed them. It was this face that was the last face they looked at as they took their final breath.

Red moved so quickly, Lizzie almost didn't notice what had happened. One minute Red was staring at the man on the ground and the next his hands were around the guy's neck.

Lizzie moved quickly to stop him, just basic instinct really, when Dembe grabbed her by the arms. His hold was gentle but very firm. They couldn't see Red's face from the position they were in but they could see his enemy's.

Fear. True fear ran through his eyes.

And anger ran through Red. A deliberate, uncontrollable rage filled his veins. If anyone had ever truly hated someone before, it was Red to this man.

As Red's fingers tightened around this enemy's neck, Red started to shake. Image after image ran through Red's head. His wife and daughter flashed before his eyes. The day he married the love of his life, their honeymoon, carrying her over the threshold of their very first house, holding her hand as she gave birth to their little Peanut. His daughter's first steps, walking around with her downstairs in the middle of the night because she was teething and couldn't sleep, teaching her how to ride a bike.

Memories and thoughts of what should have been were all that Red could think about as he squeezed harder. He barely made out the look on the man's face. Eyes popping out, face turning red and then purple, and trying desperately to gasp for air.

The whole moment seemingly took forever to Lizzie, as she stood in front of Dembe, his grip on her never relaxing.

But to Red, it was over far too soon.

As he squeezed, the man's struggles became less and less until his body finally slacked all together. However, Red never relaxed his grip. He knew it took at least six to eight minutes for the body to truly die from strangulation and for the brain to shut down from lack of oxygen.

Time seemed to stand still for Red. He had finally gotten his payback. It wouldn't bring back his family and it wouldn't return the years lost but it did help.

There's something to be said about a man's wrath. It was terribly cathartic.

* * *

Envy: Jealousy for someone else's possessions, qualities, lifestyle or luck.

_People often grudge others what they cannot enjoy themselves._

_- Aesop_

"Dembe stop here for a moment," Red said from the backseat of the black Mercedes.

Dembe glanced at him in the rearview mirror but said nothing. He parked the car against the curb and shut off the engine.

Red said nothing as he looked out the window. It was a beautiful early spring Saturday in Washington D.C. One of the first of the year. Red and Dembe had been on their way to meet with an old friend of Red's to gather some information on another Blacklister Red was wanting to take to Lizzie.

As they were driving, they passed by one of the many DC community parks when Red happened to glance out of the window. There, playing basketball with his daughter was FBI Director Harold Cooper.

Red had barely recognized him. The Harold Cooper he was used to seeing dressed in suits. This Harold Cooper was wearing a US Navy t-shirt, black basketball shorts and a pair of Nikes. Sweat glistened on his forehead and he was laughing as he grabbed the basketball away from his daughter.

Cooper's daughter, Lillian. A teenager now, Red thought. Lillian was nearly as tall as her father but definitely had her mother's looks. A beautiful young woman.

Harold's son, Joseph, and his wife, Olivia, were nowhere to be seen so it was just the two of them.

A father and daughter day spent in the park.

Red frowned as he took in the scene. Red was jealous, he admitted it. His little girl was taken from him before she got to be a teenager.

He never got to play basketball with her. He never got to teach her how to even play basketball. He was going to. There were all kinds of things Red wanted his little girl to do and learn.

Basketball, tennis, skiing, fishing. They were all on the list.

He wanted to teach her several self-defense moves in case some little punk wanted more from her then what she was ready to give.

He wanted to teach her how to hold and shoot a gun just in case he wasn't around and she feared for her life.

He wanted to show her how to change a flat tire on her own.

He wanted to show her how to negotiate the price of a new car. Things to look for and, ask for, and know when to walk away.

He wanted to teach her how to drive a car and how to parallel park. Her mother couldn't parallel park to save her life, Red thought with a grin.

He wanted to teach her about money. How to make it and how to save it. Money management was true independence.

He even wanted to teach her about drinking. To know the difference between whiskeys or to know which wine went best with different foods or even to know when you have had enough.

He wanted to watch her walk down the stairs in her prom gown. He wanted to walk her down the aisle when she found someone she wanted to spend her life with. He wanted to sit nervously out in the waiting room while she gave birth to his first grandchild.

All the things fathers everywhere got to do and experience with their daughters, Raymond Reddington wanted to do with his little girl. Only he never got the chance. He never would get the chance.

As Red, sat in the backseat, he watched Cooper and Lillian continue on with their game. He hoped Cooper appreciated what he had because if Red had half the chance, he would kill, maim and destroy everyone and everything in this world for just one opportunity to play one game of basketball with his daughter.

* * *

Pride: A high opinion of one's own dignity, importance, merit or superiority; a feeling of deep pleasure or satisfaction derived from one's own achievements.

_I get a deep sense of….satisfaction, I guess, in myself when I've done something good. Whether that be professionally or personally. _

_ When the lights go down, if I've done a good job…then it's been a good day._

_- James Spader_

Red took another sip of his wine. He was currently on his jet heading back to Washington D.C. His business in London concluded.

Red rested his head on the back of his seat and closed his eyes. Things had gone amazingly well in London. He had completed the job he had been hired to do and was able to make a little extra money for his efforts. All because of who he was. Raymond Reddington.

The name meant many things to many people. Evil, mean, spiteful, vile, villainous, unforgiving, a trader, violent, and deadly to name a few. But also, at times it could mean larger than life, charming, mysterious, passionate, intelligent, sexy, and very much a gentleman. Men and women, friends and foes, all thought differently.

But at the end of the day, no matter what you called him or what you thought of him, you had to admit, Raymond Reddington would always get the job done. No matter what the job was.

Red took pride in his name. What it means and what it can do. Sometimes just simply saying the name out loud could get you anything. Mostly from fear but sometimes from respect.

He's work hard over the years to make his name known. Worked hard to strike fear in his enemies. He doesn't enjoy frightening people but in his line of work, it's necessary. And it's helpful more times than not. People are scared of the name because of what the man can do to you.

Yes, Raymond Reddington took pride in his name and he was proud of his accomplishments. Whether, for good or for bad, he's made a name for himself in the world. Long after he was gone, his name would still be known and feared.

Red took another sip of his wine and grinned.

Sometimes it was good to be king.

The End!

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this and please review :)

I also have updated my profile with a link to the picture of Lizzie's dress that she is wearing in the "Lust" tale of the story :)


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